The Scarf
by CKerased
Summary: Ep2 spoliers! Sherlock was nearly strangled to death while at Soo Lin's flat. When, on an occasion a couple of days later, he takes off his scarf, John notices the bruises. John/Sherlock


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock Holmes, John Watson or 221B Baker Street. Not in the slightest, in fact.

**Summary:** Ep. 2 spoliers! Sherlock was nearly strangled to death while at Soo Lin's flat. When, on an occasion a couple of days later, he takes off his scarf, John notices the bruises. Injured!Sherlock. Doctor!John. John/Sherlock.

**Warnings:** A little sexuality but nothing too extreme.

**The Scarf**

Sherlock and John entered 221B Baker Street at approximately 3:30 A.M on Sunday morning. After a long night of wrestling off Chinese gangsters and decoding secret book-codes, all the pair wanted to do was relax.

Sherlock reached the top of the stairs first and brought out his keys, seemingly unlocking and entering the door in one swift movement. He tossed his keys onto the couch and preceded to remove his scarf from around his neck.

"Sherlock!" John exclaimed upon seeing his flatmate's neck. The brunette's neck was covered in purple, blue and yellow bruises; the shapes not leaving any room to the imagination as to what had caused them. "When in the hell did this happen?"

John walked over to stand in front of the detective as Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"I can tell these aren't all recent. These are all at least a few days old." John reached out a hand and lightly ran it over Sherlock's neck.

"It happened in Soo Lin's flat the other day," Sherlock started. "I realized a bit too late that the killer was still there, evidently awaiting for Soo Lin to return." Sherlock cleared his throat, trying to dispel some of the awkwardness he felt from John touching his neck the way he was.

"I'm fine," Sherlock said as he smacked away John's hands from his neck. "Don't cause a fuss over this."

Sherlock turned and swiftly strode into the kitchen, but John followed closely behind.

"So when you came out of the flat, and you sounded ill... that was because the killer had _**strangled**_ you?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, John."

"I will be as bloody damn dramatic as I feel necessary, Sherlock! You were _strangled_. You didn't think that was something worth mentioning?" John stared incredulously at his flatmate. "How can you even...? Never mind. Please just let me look at the bruises. I want to make sure no excess damage occurred tonight when you were choked _again._"

Sherlock turned around to face John and shook his head. "Nothing is wrong, John. I feel fine." He paused for a moment before continuing, "I am fine." He noticed the look on John's face and reiterated one final time, "I am absolutely _**fine**_, okay?"

John let out an aggravated sigh and replied, "Please, just let me look. I'm your doctor, and even you said that, oh, what was it?" He paused in mock-thought for a moment and then continued, "Ah, right. 'Only a fool argues with his doctor.' Straight from the lips of our very own Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock rolled his eyes once more.

"Just be quick, would you? I would like to start on an experiment with the severed head I recently acquired."

John opened his mouth as if he was going to ask but immediately thought better of it. He simply shook his head and moved toward Sherlock. The doctor reached him and placed his hands on the detective's face in order to maneuver his head to get more light on his neck. Keeping one hand in place, he reached his left hand down to the bruises that lined his neck and ran his fingers softly over them. John leaned his head in further to examine the area more closely, staring intently at Sherlock's neck.

As soon as John had placed his hands onto his face, Sherlock felt uneasy. The feather-light touches that John was placing on his neck felt sinfully good, and he was beginning to worry that he wasn't going to be able to stifle a moan if John didn't finish his examination quickly. When the doctor had leaned forward, Sherlock could feel his breath rolling over his skin.

'_Oh, Darwin, why did I agree to this?_' Sherlock thought to himself while trying to distract his thoughts with an incredibly interesting speck on the wall. He began drifting off into his own, very _non-John-Watson_ related thoughts.

A few moments later, while Sherlock was quietly zoning into his own head, John broke the silence by whispering into his ear. "You know, these bruises would be healing much better if you would eat properly, Sherlock." The detective's attention was immediately brought back to the doctor.

Sherlock drew in a very deep breath and replied, "I don't eat while I'm on a case, John. You know that better than anyone." He turned his head to look at the doctor who was still staring at his neck with a look that held more than just worry.

'_I've never seen that look on him before. What is he thinking?' _Sherlock turned his body so that he was completely facing John, their bodies mere centimeters apart.

"John?" The doctor raised his gaze to Sherlock's eyes slowly, seemingly regretting having to drag his attention away from his neck. No words were spoken as they held each other's gaze.

John reached out a hand and cupped Sherlock's jaw, slowly pulling the detective closer. Sherlock swiftly leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against the doctor's, and his once idle hands relocated to John's hips so he could pull him closer. The detective didn't even try to stifle the moan he let out when John began to snake his hands down his neck, lightly running his fingers over the bruises as he had already done twice before. John grinned into the kiss at the sound of the groans coming from Sherlock's throat and pulled him flush against himself.

Sherlock gasped aloud at the contact and began moving John back toward the kitchen counter. When John's back met resistance, Sherlock pulled back and started kissing along John's jaw, slowly making his way toward the doctor's neck. John's eyes closed of their own accord from the feeling of Sherlock's mouth against his cold skin.

Sherlock starting slowly sucking on John's neck as he shifted his hands from John's waist to under his shirt, softly rubbing the cool skin of his stomach and sides. John's breathing steadily increased; the pleasure Sherlock's mouth was bringing to him was becoming unbearable.

Sherlock pulled his head back from John's neck and looked down at him. A slight smile was playing at the corners of his mouth as he slowly licked his lips, never once breaking eye contact with his flatmate.

"Those bruises on your neck certainly suit you, John." Sherlock spoke in a deep, quiet voice.

John grinned impishly. "I haven't got nearly as many bruises as you do, Sherlock. Maybe we should fix that."

Sherlock chuckled deeply and brought his lips down to John's for a lingering kiss. He slowly pulled away and brought his face toward John's ear, kissing it softly before whispering, "I'll let you borrow one of my scarves when we're done, my dear Watson."

**Author's Note:** I got the idea for this fanfic from a livejournal prompt. No one appeared to have called it, so I went ahead and wrote it, so I'm quite pleased. Be kind, please. I'm still new to this all.


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